


Coffee-Flavored Kisses (and a Bit of Conversation)

by anodyneer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 12:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11691474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anodyneer/pseuds/anodyneer
Summary: After a small reunion at Derek's new home, an exhausted Stiles slips away from the group and falls asleep on the sofa in the study. The following morning brings feelings, revelations, and Derek cooking breakfast for Stiles (not necessarily in that order). Basically just fluff without plot.





	Coffee-Flavored Kisses (and a Bit of Conversation)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragon_temeraire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/gifts).



> Written for [dragon_temeraire's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire) request for an "I crashed on your couch after the party, and in the morning you made me breakfast" AU. Thanks so much for the prompt! <3
> 
> This one is mostly fluff and getting together, featuring my favorite future!Derek who's at peace with himself (because Derek deserves to be happy). Various characters were given very brief mentions here - Scott, Kira, Jackson, Isaac, Cora, and Cora's (OC) fiance. Not playing favorites; in my mind, in this particular scenario, those were the people who showed up.
> 
> Title is from "Last Train to Clarksville" by The Monkees.

* * *

Stiles really should have found a way to get out of the trip, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d been splitting his time and skills between two different police departments, working on cases that challenged him mentally, and making the drive back and forth between each department and his home. On top of that, most of his free time in recent weeks had been dedicated to researching and writing a paper for one of the online courses he was taking to add to his résumé.

Finally, _finally_ , he had a four-day weekend all to himself, and he’d hoped to spend as much of it as possible sleeping. Or napping. Or relaxing.

That, of course, was before Derek texted to invite him to a small get-together at his new place on the same weekend. It was a few hours north of where Stiles lived, and he hadn’t realized quite how exhausted he would be when he accepted, but he also didn’t want to back out because it was _Derek_.

Derek, who had finally come out the other side of his own personal hell, not only still in one piece, but at peace with himself and his past. Derek, who couldn’t quite bring himself to move back to anywhere in Beacon County, but who’d at least returned to the state and had found a beautiful place in a small town near the forests of northern California.

It had been half a decade since Stiles had last seen Derek. Exhaustion or not, there was no way he was missing the chance.

Fueled by a large Turbo Shot, Stiles was still relatively awake by the time he pulled up in front of Derek’s house, a cabin set back away from the road, and about a half-mile from the nearest neighbor. Everyone was parked on a stone-covered area next to the house, and Stiles pulled in next to Scott and Kira’s SUV. He didn’t recognize any of the other vehicles and wasn’t sure who else would be there, but he doubted he’d be very social once the caffeine wore off anyway. With a sigh, he grabbed the housewarming gift from the passenger seat and headed for the front door.

Before Stiles even got a chance to knock, the door opened to reveal Derek himself.

“Stiles.” His name slipped from Derek’s mouth on a relieved exhale, and a familiar pair of strong arms pulled him into a warm, if totally unexpected, embrace.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles said softly as he returned the hug, careful not to smack Derek in the back with the large gift bag.

“God, it’s good to see you.” Derek turned his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing deeply, and Stiles wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. He just knew he was tired, and the warmth of the other man’s body felt so good that he let himself sink into it. Derek’s arms tightened around him briefly before pulling away. “You look good.”

“So do you,” Stiles admitted, and it was true. Derek looked great, healthy and smiling, his hair just a little longer than Stiles remembered. This somewhat softer version of Derek was already threatening to dredge up old feelings, so Stiles distracted himself by giving Derek the gift bag. “I, uh, got you this. Housewarming present.”

Derek took the bag, looking a little startled. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s not much. I just thought you’d like it.” Stiles shifted and jammed his hands into his pockets.

Derek pulled the gift out of the bag and peeled away the loosely-wrapped tissue paper to reveal a framed print of an antique moon chart. As he looked it over, Stiles felt a sudden pang of uncertainty. What if Derek thought it was a joke, a gag gift because he was a wolf? Before the anxiety itself had a chance to take hold, though, Derek looked up at him with a soft smile.

“It’s beautiful. Thanks, Stiles.” He locked the front door, then motioned for Stiles to follow him into the living room, where he sat the print up on the mantel above the fireplace. “I think I want to hang it above the sofa when I get a chance, but this is a good spot for now.” He stepped back to stand next to Stiles with a satisfied nod.

“I’m glad you like it,” Stiles said, still a little stunned by Derek’s reaction. He knew Derek had changed – hell, the guy invited everyone to his house – but he was going to need a minute to reconcile this Derek with the one he’d known year ago.

Derek gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You seem pretty tired.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long month.” He glanced over at Derek, who was giving him a concerned look. “I –”

“Hey, Derek, what’s taking so long?” Scott appeared in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. “You need to share Stiles with the rest of us, man.” Scott wrapped Stiles in a quick hug before giving him a slap on the back and leading him in the direction of the patio doors at the other side of the kitchen. “Come on, everyone else is out back waiting for you guys.”

Stiles glanced over his shoulder to see Derek following closely, his cheeks a little pink. Stiles was too tired to figure out exactly what that meant, and Scott wasn’t giving him a chance anyway.

The gathering was small but lively, and Stiles started to feel better almost immediately. Derek’s backyard was big and beautiful, and after the weeks spent mostly cooped up inside plus the long drive, the fresh air and wide open space was just what he needed.

He ate a bison burger and some pasta salad as he caught up with Isaac and Jackson, neither of whom he’d seen since high school, then spent some time hanging out with Derek, Cora, and Cora’s fiancé, Michael. Since alcohol tended to make him sleepy, Stiles skipped the cooler full of beer in favor of water. Still, by the time they started picking teams for a game of volleyball, the hours were starting to catch up with him again, and he decided to watch from the deck instead. So the teams would be even, Derek dropped out as well, and the two of them watched in a comfortable silence as Scott, Kira, and Isaac took on Jackson, Cora, and Michael. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” Stiles finally said, closing his eyes and tilting his face up toward the late afternoon sun.

“Yeah. It is.”

Something in Derek’s voice made Stiles glance over, only to find Derek looking back at him with an easy smile on his face. Stiles returned it, warmth spreading through his chest. He’d felt a camaraderie with Derek back in their early years, and it had definitely morphed into something much deeper before they parted ways in Mexico, but Stiles hadn’t let himself dwell on the could-have-beens for long. He always figured that if there was really something there, they’d find the right time and place to make it work.

He gave Derek a gentle nudge. “Thanks for doing this. It’s been good seeing everyone again.” He hesitated, quirking an eyebrow. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but I was even glad to see Jackson. He really mellowed out.”

Derek nodded, his gaze straying to the volleyball game. “Jackson figured out what’s important.”

“Seems to be a lot of that going around.”

Derek ducked his head, but Stiles could see a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Yeah.” This time it was Derek who leaned in, lightly knocking their arms together. “I think you’re right.”

“Well, of course I am,” Stiles replied, and Derek let out a soft chuckle. They turned their attention back to the game, but Derek didn’t move away, and it wasn’t long until the warmth of his body started to make Stiles dangerously drowsy. After catching himself nearly falling asleep on Derek’s shoulder for the second time in as many minutes, Stiles forced himself to sit up.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go use your bathroom.”

“Sure.” Derek looked up at him as Stiles stood and shook out his limbs. “First door on the left back the hallway.”

Stiles nodded and made his way inside, easily finding the bathroom in spite of his bleary eyes. When he was done, he splashed some water on his face and rubbed at his cheeks with his wet hands, but it did little to make him feel more awake. With a long sigh, he dried his face and walked out into the hallway.

He hadn’t exactly planned on snooping around Derek’s house, but the door to the room across the hall from the bathroom was open, and Stiles caught a glimpse of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Curious, he leaned into the room, and with the faint light coming from the hallway, he could see that the shelves took up an entire wall. There were already countless books on the shelves, as well as a couple of framed photos and some assorted odds and ends that Stiles couldn’t quite make out. Various boxes sat on the floor nearby, presumably full of the books that Derek hadn’t yet unpacked.

Stiles pushed away the urge to turn on the light and browse Derek’s book collection, instead letting his gaze drift around the rest of the room. There was a desk and laptop computer, as well as a filing cabinet. And tucked against the wall opposite the one with the bookshelves was a large, very cushy-looking sofa.

He tried to force himself to walk away, to go back out and socialize with the friends he hadn’t seen in years. But Stiles was way beyond exhausted, and the sofa looked so inviting, hidden in the silence and darkness, long enough for him to stretch out on, with big throw pillows that – no.

Even as he tried to talk himself out of it, Stiles drifted toward the sofa. Maybe he could just sit there for a few minutes and relax in peace before going back out to face everyone. He could also go crash in Derek’s guest room instead, but he had no idea how many there were, or if Derek had invited anyone else to stay, as he’d done with Stiles when he’d texted about the get-together.

Had Derek invited anyone else? Were they all staying at the nearest motel? He thought he remembered Scott mentioning something about a room in town. What about Cora, though? She was family. Or Jackson and Isaac. Wouldn’t Derek want them close?

Stiles fell back onto the sofa, heels of his hands pressed against his eyes, and… _oh_.

It was just as comfortable as it looked, if not more. There was no way he was getting up anytime soon.

He was vaguely aware of kicking off his shoes and pulling his feet up on the sofa, his head sinking into one of those plush throw pillows, and then nothing.

\-------------

Sometime during the night, a low, soothing voice pulled Stiles back to the edges of wakefulness, but only barely. He opened his eyes just far enough to make out Derek kneeling in front of him, hand resting on Stiles’ shoulder.

“You’re welcome to stay on the sofa all night,” Derek murmured, thumb stroking over the thin fabric of Stiles’ shirt. “If you change your mind and want to switch to a bed, the room on the left at the end of the hall is made up for you.”

“Mmmkaythanks.” His muzzy brain wouldn’t let him get out anything more coherent, but Derek gave him a smile and stood, so it must have been enough. Stiles allowed his eyes to fall shut again, and he was almost so far gone that he missed it – the feeling of lips brushing across his forehead.

He wanted to stop Derek and ask him if it really happened and what it meant, if it meant anything at all. 

In the morning.

\-------------

Stiles awoke to sunlight streaming in through the blinds at the back of the room, illuminating everything in a soft white glow. He blinked a few times as he took stock of how he was feeling. There was a slight twinge in his lower back, but nothing that couldn’t be stretched away, and he could really use a shower.

Most importantly, he felt well-rested for the first time in weeks.

He slipped across the hall into the bathroom, where a towel and washcloth were already waiting for him on the vanity, Derek’s familiar scrawl on the note next to them.

_Your bag’s in the guest room. Breakfast will be ready when you are. - D_

For some reason, that personal touch left Stiles feeling warm and a little giddy. He found the guest room and grabbed his toothbrush and a change of clothes before heading back to shower.

Stiles was halfway through his shower, trying not to feel weird about using Derek’s shampoo and body wash, when it came back to him.

A hand on his shoulder. A fond smile. Lips on his forehead.

_Fuck._

Stiles finished showering as quickly as he could, then dried off and got dressed, his mind reeling. Had those things really happened during the night, or had his sleep-deprived brain concocted it all? He had no reason to believe it hadn’t been real. After all, he’d remembered the directions to the guest room, and Derek had been sweet to him the entire evening.

But still, kissing him? Okay, so it wasn’t on the lips, but it was somewhere on his face, so it counted as _something_ in Stiles’ book.

As he headed down the hallway, Stiles could hear noises from the kitchen, and the unmistakable smell of bacon made his mouth water. He stopped just out of view of the kitchen, though, still debating over whether he should wait for Derek to bring it up or come right out and ask.

“Stiles?” Derek stepped into view at the end of the hallway, spatula in hand. He was wearing only a faded blue t-shirt and thin black lounge pants, and seeing him immediately put Stiles as ease. “Hey.”

“Hey. Smells great out here.” Stiles followed Derek back to the kitchen and sat down at the small breakfast bar.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what you might want.” Derek glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, then turned his attention back to the stove, where he was melting butter in a frying pan. He looked totally comfortable in the kitchen, something that surprised Stiles, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. “I know you love bacon, so there’s bacon. I’ve got stuff ready for omelets, or if you’d rather have pancakes, I can get some batter going.”

Stiles had to force himself not to gape. It wasn’t like he hadn’t realized that Derek had changed. That had been more than obvious from the moment Stiles arrived. But this Derek was moving around the kitchen like he belonged there and was making him breakfast, offering him _choices_ , even. This Derek was at home, settled, no longer on the run. The realization soothed something deep inside Stiles.

“Um, omelets sound perfect,” he finally answered. “I love pancakes, but I usually eat so many that I get sleepy again, so I save them for lazy days.”

Derek turned and gave him that same soft smile he’d seen more than once the previous day. “My grandma used to call that being logy.”

The casual mention of one of Derek’s family members caught Stiles off-guard, but he recovered quickly enough to keep the conversation going. “I didn’t think it would affect werewolves, you know, because of the metabolism.”

“No,” Derek said as he grabbed a plate of various chopped vegetables from the counter, “my human grandma.” And then, as if he hadn’t just casually slipped a family anecdote into the conversation, he held the plate out to Stiles. “What do you want in your omelet?”

“I – uh, a little of everything.” He didn’t want to push, but the fact that Derek readily shared the grandma thing made Stiles feel comfortable enough to ask. “So your grandma was human?”

“The one on my dad’s side, yeah.” Derek sprinkled some black pepper and dill into the eggs he was beating in a bowl, throwing glances over his shoulder at Stiles as he spoke. “Mom’s mom was a wolf. 

“Nice.” Stiles rubs a thumb over the marble countertop. “Both of my grandmothers were human.”

Derek hummed in assent as he poured the egg mixture into the pan. “As far as you know, anyway.”

“That’s a valid point. I didn’t even know about werewolves until I was sixteen.”

Derek acknowledged that with a tilt of his head, but said nothing. They lapsed into silence until the food was done, then wasted no time digging in.

“This is great,” Stiles said, honestly impressed with Derek’s cooking. He’d never seen Derek cook back in their earlier years, but then again, he hadn’t seen Derek do much of anything that could be considered domestic back when they first knew each other. Things had changed so much since then, mostly for the better.

Derek nodded his thanks as he took a sip of coffee. “You want anything else with it? Toast, English muffin?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, though.” He bit into a slice of bacon, crispy and perfect, and groaned in appreciation. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

“When I was a kid, I used to like to get up early in the morning to go running. I’d get back and shower, and Mom would be making breakfast. She’d always let me help with something. It was kind of our thing, I guess.”

When Stiles glanced up from his plate, Derek was looking right at him, a small smile on his face. Stiles returned it, and Derek ducked his head, though not quite quickly enough to hide his widening grin. It warmed something in Stiles, seeing Derek happy, seeing him comfortable enough to talk about his family so openly. He still wanted to ask about the night before, but he wasn’t sure how Derek would react, and he didn’t want to risk ruining the moment.

It wasn’t until they were finished eating and were lingering at the breakfast bar over their second cups of coffee that Stiles finally took the chance.

“So, uh, last night, when you woke me up –”

“I meant it,” Derek blurted, a flush already starting high on his cheekbones.

“When you kissed me?” At Derek’s nod, Stiles grinned. “Oh good, so I wasn’t imagining it?”

“No, I…” Derek trailed off and tapped his finger against the rim of his mug. “I was planning on telling you yesterday. How I f– ” He cut himself off, but Stiles already knew the rest of the sentence. _How I feel about you._ “God, I’m bad at this.” He huffed out a sheepish laugh and shook his head.

Without really thinking about it, Stiles reached across and wrapped his fingers around Derek’s. He gave him a reassuring smile, and Derek returned it.

“I didn’t realize you’d be so tired when you got here. I couldn’t…I couldn’t lay all of that on you when you looked like you were barely functioning.”

“Hey, now,” Stiles teased, and Derek laughed.

“You were asleep on your feet, Stiles, come on.” Derek’s expression softened. “It would’ve felt like I was taking advantage of you. And then when I found you in the study, you just looked so peaceful that I didn’t even want to wake you at all.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“Well, I’m awake now.”

“You are.”

“And since the bacon didn’t bring anyone else out for breakfast, I’m guessing we’re alone.”

Derek nodded, giving Stiles’ fingers a squeeze. “Everyone else is at a hotel in Redding.”

“Good to know.” Stiles slipped off the stool and walked around the bar. Derek turned to meet him, spreading his knees far enough for Stiles to step in between them. “So if I’d been more awake last night – you know, like I am now – what else would you have done?”

Derek just watched him for a long moment, and Stiles held that gaze, hoping he was doing enough to convey that he was okay with whatever Derek wanted. Derek’s hands ran down Stiles’ sides before coming to rest on his hips, and his eyes searched Stiles’ face.

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, you’d better believe I am.”

Almost before the words were out of Stiles’ mouth, Derek leaned in to kiss him. It was soft, gentle, fitting for the man Derek had become since they’d last spent time together. Stiles brought a hand up to Derek’s neck, thumb stroking over his jaw. Derek let out a little moan, his mouth opening, and Stiles deepened the kiss.

They made out for countless minutes, and though Derek was definitely into it if the moaning was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to move things along. Not that Stiles minded. Kissing Derek was so much better than he ever could have imagined – and when he _had_ imagined it, it had been pretty damn hot.

When they finally came up for air, Derek dropped his forehead to Stiles’ shoulder, chuckling softly.

“What’s so funny?” Stiles managed to ask after a few deep breaths.

“You’re even better at that than I thought you’d be. Surprised me.”

Stiles opened his mouth to defend himself, then shut it again as the implication behind those words dawned on him.

“You…you mean you’ve thought about this?”

Derek put his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, pushing him away just far enough to look into his eyes. “I’ve thought about this a lot,” he replied with a grin.

“Really?” Stiles couldn’t help smirking at him. “What else have you thought about?”

Derek slipped off the stool, his body sliding against Stiles’ in a way that made Stiles shiver. He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist and leaned in to mouth at his neck.

“All sorts of things,” he breathed against Stiles’ damp skin. “Why don’t we take this somewhere a little more comfortable, and I’ll show you a few of them.”

In the end, they didn’t make it any farther than the sofa in Derek’s living room – which, as Stiles was delighted to discover, was just as amazing as the one in the study.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk Sterek with me on [tumblr](http://anodyneer.tumblr.com/)! <3
> 
> (Yeah, I know I suck at endings. It's always going to be a thing.)


End file.
